


Make Some Trouble

by the_hyperwriter_lennox



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: But mostly angst because Crowley is Soft, Crack!ish, Demonic Temptation, Eve's Temptation, Gen, How the seven deadly sins actually happened, Royally messing with the First Couple, Snake!Crowley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-09-30 15:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20449064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_hyperwriter_lennox/pseuds/the_hyperwriter_lennox
Summary: This is how tempting Eve really happened (and is also known as how the seven deadly sins came about. You didn’t think those were Crowley’s idea, did you? They were. Surprise!).If you came for a certain well-meaning angel, Crowley didn’t see him until after the Garden mess, and the angel was too nice for the humans’ good anyway, sorry. You heard him. Which of them did the right thing?





	1. Make Some Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Songs that inspired writing this: Want by Taemin and Paradise by Coldplay; The album Born To Die by Lana Del Rey (Deluxe) during the writing process (Playlist here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2m7QTcJZtuX6F7Z2A4cyQJ1xCwzzcBQE). Strange dichotomy, but I don’t question the Muse when she comes knocking. Enjoy!

Crawley didn’t know what to expect when he was told to “go up there, make some trouble” with not so much as a by-your-leave, not even official order papers, just word of mouth. That, and the dismissive little handwave from Dagon Lord of the Flies made him less than happy about his reassignment to this brand new experiment, but that changed as soon as he saw the  _ intense  _ greenery in the Garden, so very different from Hell’s cramped, fire-and-brimstone thoroughfare. Also, the heat. The nice kind that doesn’t want to sweat you to death, just warm you comfortably. There was something very nice making the soft ground dappled, warm and pleasantly cool by turns. Of course, when he emerged from overhanging growth and tried to see it, it hurt his eyes, causing him to hiss involuntarily, and the scent of  _ goodness  _ and  _ life  _ flooded him, making him want to sneeze - which he couldn’t, as a snake. It hit him in a weird way, but he didn’t exactly  _ hate  _ it, either. He hissed again, stretching his jaws and noticing his fangs for the first time. Venomous? He was still half-blind from the Sun’s tattoo on his retinas, which vanished as soon as he noticed it. The wonder of small miracles. His first time in quite an eternity somewhere with natural colors and light, how nice.

Sight restored, he studied his surroundings. Mostly green, as noted, he could tell - even if he  _ couldn’t _ , as a snake - with vivid patches of all manner of color, flower and fruit alike. Why did he have to be issued a form that was so incompetent? He didn’t know, but that wasn’t too important. What  _ was _ , in fact, was the tree he saw not far in front of him, right in the middle of a clearing. He continued forward and was surprised by two things: first of all, the ground,  _ grass _ \- already discovered to be soft and forgiving (he gave a slight shudder-  _ nothing he would do could be forgivable, _ he reminded himself with mentally gritted teeth) - and second,  _ how  _ he moved. He didn’t know what to expect, of course, but he didn’t think he could have expected the soft glide of his scales as he slithered over the fresh grass and to the tree, now clearly distinguishable as a pomegranate tree. Crawley was almost sure of it. Something caused him to be drawn to it and he understood when he reached the roots: there was an aura of  _ forbiddenness _ surrounding the tree. So, Crawley behaved for one of the few times in his existence. 

He discovered he could slither up the tree - he could have done it without a minor miracle if he had to, but he was lazy - and wrapped himself around a lower branch and seized a ripe fruit, shiny red and glistening in the new light, in his mouth. Yes, his fangs were venomous, it appeared, because the fruit smoked lightly where they sank into the rind, but that only left a slight, pleasant fizzing in his mouth as he tore off chunks and swallowed, the juice running down his throat and dripping into the grass. He was hungry for new knowledge, which was the whole reason he was here,  _ in  _ the Garden, as opposed to  _ out  _ of it, surveying whatever lay beyond the Wall surrounding it. That was why he Fell in the first place. But he was also just  _ hungry,  _ as in he wanted food - even though he didn’t really need it. Ah well. Indulgence was a sin, according to the head office’s handbook on the subject, a small amount of trouble in the moral world. 

Speaking of which - what kind of order was that in the first place? “Go up there, make some trouble”? Clarity wasn’t Hell’s specialty, that much was a given, because it is so much more diabolical to give people vagaries and let them figure it out amid much frustration and trial and error, but seriously? If he was going to be acting on  _ that  _ for the next eternity, why not give him specific jobs? 

Or was it better to just leave it up to him? Crawley pondered these and many other questions as he slithered down the tree and away, considering his options. He should probably try and find any other living creatures in the Garden and maybe tempt a few of them. That might be hard to do in terms of having anything less than perfectly good and respectable (another shiver) to do. He’d only been here for less than a day, far less than that because the light had barely shifted, so there was no need to rush into things. He scanned his memory for any pointers on how to go about it remembered one thing from the mass briefing before the dreadfully pointless wait in a single file line for orders. Something about humans being the Almighty’s greatest achievement, and how there would be two, delivery date to be announced. Crawley had grumbled at the achievement remark, because who had made the Milky Way? No, not in  _ that  _ way - why, he was pretty sure it had taken infinitely more time for him to arrange the stars with the other angels than it theoretically would for him to make  _ that  _ kind of--

Still, that remark had stung but also opened an opportunity for him to get started on his trouble quota. These humans might be amazing creations, the crowning jewel, but they were not infallible. Wasn’t that part of the design? Something that came with it, the idea of free will? As Crowley reached the comfortable darkness of the trees once again, he decided to locate the imperfect perfections the Almighty had decided should tame the planet. Part of Her Plan, apparently - but he would have been fine with the Garden to himself. But no, that couldn’t be possible - he was Fallen, and no such privilege could ever be his. This thought was lowering, but only a little bit. He had already done something bad, according to the Almighty - the tree had been Forbidden as far as his occult senses told him. All that remained was tempting the humans beyond salvation - if such a thing were possible. Only one way to find out. 

The grass was so soft on his scales as he slithered serenely through the undergrowth toward where he could hear voices - he was almost certain. One was deeper, more sonorous, dark-toned and evidently powerful. The other was light, wondering, in the upper registers. Crawley slowed slightly so they didn’t hear him, maintaining cover in the grass as he approached another clearing. 

“Where am I?” This from the shorter of the two, whose hair hung in loose curls down their decidedly curvy form, more so than the taller. They were staring around the clearing at their verdant surroundings. 

The taller of the pair was staring at the speaker, a look of wonder and something else on their face. Crawley suppressed a hiss in disapproval. 

“You’re in the Garden. God brought you here.” 

“Where from?” 

The taller looked down at their torso and pointed to a protrusion in their side, under the arm they used to point. “Here. I think it was… was while it was dark…” they trail off, and Crawley smirks. The pomegranate was having an effect, and  _ oh,  _ how he wanted to tell them, “Night, that’s what you mean.” Of course, he didn’t. Didn’t know if he could verbalize, either. Time could tell. And the taller was talking again. 

“Anyway, um. Now you’re here, you should explore. I still haven’t figured out what everything is, but you should try that way--” he pointed toward where Crawley lay in the grass, unbeknownst to both of them, “--and I should find you at some point. There’s only so much greenery here,” they smiled, “and there’s so much we can do together, sometime. We’ve got forever,” and they took the curvy human’s hand, at which it looked slightly taken aback, but not shocked, not really, “and we have each other.” Crawley could have thrown up the pomegranate. It was all to  _ perfect _ , too  _ pure,  _ and it disgusted him. He knew what to do now - make trouble, yes, but what better way to do that than corrupt such an  _ ineffable _ human and celestial quality, the ability to love wholly and unconditionally? There were many ways, and Crawley decided there in the Sun-baked grass, as the first demon living on an inhabited planet, to come up with the concept of  _ earthly sin -  _ the idea of doing things against Heaven’s wishes. That should secure at least a few commendations from head office (just the thought made him want to jump up and down at the sheer  _ evil genius  _ of it--but, right. He couldn’t, as a snake). Then they might leave him alone for a while, at least - maybe come up with more specific orders, if they decide not to give him room, which was far more likely. Only so many demons were eager to go somewhere so unexplored. As a group, they tended to be more lazy than anything else--whips and threats of holy water got them to work better than they might have of their own volition. What would the point be otherwise? 

The humans kept talking for a little longer, and Crawley bided his time. Now that he had a  _ job,  _ not just a vague directive from head office, he could wait as long as necessary. The humans had forever, so he did too. The Sun felt so nice on his scales, and he liked the feeling of grass on him, comforting and soft, not like harsh hellfire, and more gentle, too. The breeze that floated through the Garden was nice, too, and soon Crawley felt himself slipping beyond presence. Just a quick doze to digest the pomegranate couldn’t hurt, surely… 

A disruption in the heat startled him out of a reverie he didn’t recall falling into. The shorter human was squatted close to him, looking down at him closely with open curiosity. 

“Hello, what are you?” The question came out like they’ve asked it to other creatures, too. 

“Uhh…” Crawley was still getting his bearings, and the vocalization came reflexively. But he just spoke.  _ He spoke. _ It was a good development. He could talk to the human now, so temptation would be much simpler. Not so hard anymore. “I’m--” and he stopped for a moment. What would be a better name than  _ Crawley _ ? It didn’t sound too auspicious--more suspicious for a first acquaintance. He was certain something more dignified was required. “--Crowley,” he decided after a moment’s thought, then winced. He’d stick with it, probably get used to it at some point. 

The human swept the hair out of their face and regards him. “You talk!” it wasn’t said like a massive revelation, just like a child discovering that they actually like pomegranates, or climbing trees is easier than they thought. “I’m Eve. Adam told me I’m a--a  _ Wo-man, _ ” the last word whispered, drawn out like a secret. So Eve was created second. Even though the Almighty Herself is rumored to share her form. Hm. Crawley--Crowley, he supposed, raised himself in a  _ very  _ minor miracle (nothing more, really) to look at her more closely. Her eyes were large and liquid, shifting in natural colors from bright green like what surrounds them both to the color of the sky and back to the color of her skin, a beautiful color of the earth beneath the greenery. Crowley should know. He had to dig to get to the Garden from Hell.  _ And  _ had eaten from an arbitrarily forbidden tree, so he really knew, but that was beside the point. Wasn’t it?

“Yeah, I talk. And I heard you talking with--was it Adam?” 

Eve nodded eagerly. So open, so trusting. Crowley would have laughed at how easy this would be, but he couldn’t, as a snake. “Yes. Adam said I was made out of his rib!” She really was like a child. Nothing Crowley wouldn’t be able to fix. 

“Really! That’s just amazing. I heard he said you should explore the Garden. I’ve been here for longer than you have--” this was stretching the truth, but he wasn’t an angel, “--and I would like to show you around. Conssidering we’re going to be coexissting for quite ssome time, you desserve the best tour, from yourss truly.” The last sentence leaned just a  _ little  _ bit on her willpower, the ‘s’s slightly drawn out in spite of himself. Enough that she would accept the  _ thoroughly  _ generous offer, no more. He couldn’t help it. “The birds could, but you can’t fly. You are much better with me because I can only be on the ground, like you,”  _ For now,  _ he wanted to add, but didn’t, mentally biting his forked tongue. 

“Why can’t we fly? Adam and me?” 

“You should ask him that, you know.” 

“I will. Do you know where he is, Crow-ley?” the name lingered just a little while she got used to the idea. It would happen soon enough. He wasn’t worried. 

“No idea. He said he’d find you, though. Come with me.” A  _ very _ slight lean, again in the last sentence, made sure she followed him into the gloom of the forest again. Crowley smiled to himself, already planning her fall from grace, totally unforgivable and perfect. Today wasn’t actually all that bad after all. “Make some trouble,” indeed - if only they knew! Crowley tasted the air again, smiling to himself. But not the same way. Far less openly now, dare he say  _ wickedly _ ? He really couldn’t wait for those sweet, sweet commendations to flood in. He could practically taste it, even as the pomegranate continued to fizz in his gut. It mixed with the twinges of anticipation and excitement there, making him feel like he could bubble over at any moment. Even before he corrupted Eve. All Crowley had to be was patient. That couldn’t be hard, right? He had eternity, after all.


	2. Perfectly Harmless, Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Crowley begins feeling proud of himself but he's just very bad at his job. Alternately, a normal Tuesday.  
Or is it?

It was still only his first day and Crowley couldn’t believe his luck. Already, he’d gained knowledge from a forbidden source, seen how _ very nice _ the Garden really is, and found the newest human incredibly gullible. He knew, of course, that normal snakes _ just don’t _ talk, but no matter. A very small miracle (they made life much easier, and he was lazy) kept all other potential reptiles away. Eve was so easy to deceive and it made Crowley only a little bit queasy knowing what he was going to do to her mind. But his ideas _ needed _ to work for him to get that promotion. Anything is fair if you’re despicable enough, and he was _ the ultimate _demon. Obviously. 

Eve looked up into the foliage as they walked, arms outstretched to touch. “So many different kinds!” Still the child-like wonder, and it was beautiful, Crowley had to admit. “I wonder if I can remember them all.” 

Crowley didn’t need to look up at her to know that she studied each leaf very carefully, already absorbing where she was to exist. He had done the same thing and didn’t comment. He didn’t need to, but he did need to move the conversation to the point where he could conveniently begin tempting her. It was a pity - Eve seemed quite nice and decent (as far as humans go, there being only two to choose from at this point). No, he decided, it was better to only dwell on his reputation in Hell as opposed to his task concerning the mortals. And be a good demon. A demon who is good is always self-absorbed. Crowley thought he might have read that somewhere, even though he considered himself to be quite dyslexic since his Fall. A minor side effect and slightly less irritating than the burns that had lasted at least five hundred millennia. Of course, there was nothing in the Garden to read so he didn’t have to worry about it. 

They walked on for a while, leaving the trees and following the curve of the Wall. Eve’s steps slowed, and Crowley twisted to see what she was looking at. She was staring up at the expanse of rock, light yellow and made of individual blocks, and the sky seemed so very far away, the clearest blue; some kind of reminder of how far they both were from Heaven? Crowley knew there would be some kind of washed-up, love-filled angel guarding this side, but didn’t follow her gaze directly upward, because when _ he _ tried that it _ hurt, _bless it. She looked down at him to see the snake regarding her. “I wonder if Adam saw this before,” she said, pointing at the Wall before them. 

This was his opening. “He probably has,” he responded, covertly eyeing her reaction to this. She settled her weight to one side, cocking her head at the snake on the ground. 

“Then, why wouldn’t he tell me that’s the edge of the world?” Ah, yes. This, the enclosed Garden, was the whole world she could know. So far, - and he could help with that. He would have to. 

“He didn’t?” Good. Fake surprise, first. 

“N-no, I thought you heard us talking.” She looked concerned.

“Well…” Crowley looked away and then back, “Only a little bit. I fell asleep.” Enough of a lie to justify demonic intention, not enough to instill distrust - he was zoned out, not _ asleep, _even though he could have with the Sun beating so deliciously on him, not that he even needed to. She looked mollified, though. It worked. 

“He didn’t tell me anything about the edge, at all.” 

“Huh. Anything else he didn’t tell you about this far? Have you seen more than what he’s already told you?” 

She looked sharply at him. She was no longer in awe of existing, the seeds of doubt sowing themselves. This was going very well, and Crowley congratulated himself (not too much, just enough to silence the ache it was causing. He couldn’t--didn’t care about the human. Not at all, nope). “No, I don’t think so, he didn’t show me any of this, just told me about the things I should and shouldn’t eat.” 

Crowley smiled to himself. The same predatory--demonic, right--smile from before, the kind he couldn’t show this poor human before it was too late. “Did he tell you what to look for so you aren’t poisoned?” 

She brightened. Crowley was amazed at how quickly she recovered from uncertainty, so naive. Again, it was only a matter of time. “Yes! If the leaves are this color--” she pointed at a small plant growing across the path they were taking around the Garden, the leaves shining softly in the Sun and the berries a full orange-red color, “--I shouldn’t eat it.” Clearly, Adam needed horticultural lessons, but trial and error could prove effective. 

Leaning again on her will, he said, (in his first temptation!), “Actually, I’ve had some of them, and they were really good. Trust me,” he said, slithering up to the plant and plucking a berry from the bush into his mouth. It didn’t fizz like the pomegranate, and he swallowed it before thinking to manifest teeth to chew it in demonstration. He took another, and this time did chew it, slowly, actually enjoying the flavor. Soft and light but lingering after he swallowed, an altogether pleasant experience. Eve watched the snake in front of her in astonishment, half-tensed in what could be revulsion. Crowley wanted to smile and show that it was okay, but he couldn’t, clearly. Instead, he sighed lightly as he slithered back to her, hoping to show that he was still alive and had enjoyed something harmless. 

Eve eyed him again. “How- how were they?” 

“Delicious!” He curled up, apparently unconcerned, and nodded at the berries. “Try some. You’ll like it, I’m sure.” 

She was hesitant for a minute, watching him as she walked from the Wall to the bush. She bent, slowly, and took a handful of the large berries. Still looking at him, she put one in her mouth and chewed, following the snake’s example. (It wasn’t the pomegranate that was her first fruit, then - these unnamed berries confirmed her humanity, not the instrument of her fall from grace. No one but Crowley would remember or ever know, of course.) The snake watched her face as the flavor registered and her eyes lit up, and then she ate another and another. “Oh, that _ is _delicious,” she said, a smile stretching her face in her first moment of tempted joy. “Why didn’t Adam tell me?” 

There it is. “Yes, why didn’t he? If there’s no harm in it…” he trailed off, letting her reach his conclusion.

“Did he eat these, too?” 

“Yes, I saw him yesterday, before you got here.” A lie was needed, unfortunately. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it, about what else he hasn’t told you, huh?” 

The emotion dawning on her perfect features was entirely new, and Eve dropped the berries to the earth. Some insects passing by gathered to eat. “Why?” There was tension in her voice, and she actually _ glared _at the snake, demanding for the first time. 

“Because he believes you are a child, less than him.” The lie flowed so _ easily _ and it absolutely _ broke _ him (no, it didn’t. He was a _ demon _ , he couldn’t _ pity. _How utterly weak.). 

“But I’m _ not, _ I’m not a child!” Eve’s voice was now louder, in denial, and it echoed off the Wall, nearby. A minor miracle allowed it to resonate only around them and no farther. “Why would he ever think of me like that? I’m a _ woman, _not less!” 

“Exactly,” Crowley agreed firmly. He must be on her good side until the end. “I don’t know why he wouldn’t treat you like you are his equal. You were made of him, you know - equal flesh and blood, and all that.” 

Eve reached down and picked the snake up without fear. Without thinking, Crowley made his body feather-light. It was better not to remind her of how very _ damned _he is, and how soon she would be, too. “Thank you,” she said, quietly. She was still not happy. She began walking past the bush with more gravity to her steps. She’d begun to learn about distrust, disgust. Crowley knew himself to be only a tinge sad (not very, not at all) to see her naivety chipped away piece by piece from her in such a way and so quickly, even though it was him who did it. 

The Sun continued to beat down on them as they followed the Wall as it curved around the edge of shelter, losing not a bit of heat for Crowley but seeming far less bright than it did only a few moments ago. Even though it was his fault, he didn’t think about it _ too _much, deciding what he should say instead as he wrapped himself comfortably around Eve’s shoulders, bony and slender, perfect places for his coils. Eve walked in sullen silence as the Sun began to move away from them. Her face was no longer open, anger apparent. That’s new - was it Avarice? 

Yes, Crowley decided. Eve could no longer be called blameless - she knew violent, pointless and spending anger now. Guilt threatened to choke him so he forced the knot into his stomach, with the pomegranate and the berries and anticipation and excitement. There was absolutely no room for second guesses, no, none. It was a good thing to bring sin into the world. There was more to come, he knew. It was only the beginning, and he couldn’t think of _ anything better _he could have done for Hell. So why did it sting so much? He didn’t know, but it surely wasn’t important. Right? 

Of course, because he needed to sink a _ little _bit lower to be satisfied. Demonic intent, and all that. They walked for a while until they got to a bit of shade and Eve sat down, settling on a soft part of the ground. Crowley slithered down her arm and regarded her from the grass once again. Should he do it now? Her face was still tight, unhappy, lines creasing her smooth forehead and wrinkling her shapely nose, eyebrows ruffled in discontent. 

He tried to take a preparatory breath, but it came as an inward hiss. He did it anyway. “Listen- Eve,” he began, and when she looked at him he felt another twinge of sadness. This would rip her farther than what he was comfortable with. _ Think of Hell, _ he scolded himself. _ Think of the reports, commendations. Demons don’t know sympathetic feelings - no love, no sadness, no fear. _He was afraid, though, when he looked up at her from where she sat amid a verdant green Garden crafted and guarded by beings of love and said, “I’ve been thinking,” he was stalling, and he knew it. 

She frowned, confusion creasing her expression only slightly more. “What were you thinking?” 

The pomegranate, the berries, all of his demonic excitement at his Great Plan of Evil were gone into the pit of his stomach. “While we were walking. Have you thought…” Right, he had to suggest it, tempting. The temptation of stupid mortal beings was in the job description, not letting them down. He needed a hold on himself. “Have you thought that Adam might not love you?” 

At first, there was no reaction. Eve simply stared, not understanding, at the serpent who was cringing and trying to remember how he was a _ demon _ and did not feel _ bad _ or _ sorry _ about how he had hurt a _ stupid, mortal being, _ but she couldn’t see that _ . _ Not yet, and the serpent wondered inside if he really wanted to do it. But slowly her face changed and there was a new and dangerous light in her eyes. It went from Avarice to Hurt, and then… 

“Who does he love? What do you mean, _ love? _” And she was still confused, asking softly and unknowing, still staring at the snake who cowered before her. 

“Adam, did he say anything about how he feels towards you?” Crowley had to keep her reasonable, for the coldness of the next sin to properly set in. And it hurt worse than his Fall had. 

“Yes, well…” Eve trailed off, trying to recall. “He did say something about how we had each other, but what did he mean by that?” 

Great. Now Crowley had to explain the concept of _ love, _ something that he couldn’t figure out or feel himself. He tried his best anyway. “When Adam said that, he said that he wanted to be close to you, live with and care for you. What he meant was that he is deeply affectionate for you, more so than a snake and a human could possibly be. It’s the kind of affection that can only happen between two humans.” He never expected to have to be a teacher, but whatever it took to get his promotion would be what he’d do (he had to convince himself that he wasn’t “just saying” this, that he really _ didn’t _care about Eve. But he did). 

Eve looked at him again in the slowly fading light behind the western side of the Wall. “What he said- that’s what it means?”

“Yes,” The lie was more difficult than Crowley could have imagined.

“Why did he say it if he didn’t mean it?” She was too pure, too innocent for this kind of trickery. 

“Remember how I told you he thinks of you as a child when you ate the berries?” 

“Yes,” Avarice was back on her face, and it was more confused than it had been, even when blind and baseless. 

“Yep.” The snake couldn’t look at her, flicked out its tongue. If Eve had more experience she could have seen Crowley was nervous. But she didn’t, she was only a day old, really. 

The dangerous light was back. “So who does he love, then?” 

“Honestly, I couldn’t tell you. Possibly no one.” Crowley was lying through his fangs. 

“Nobody?” She was incredulous, lit with hellfire. The speed at which her emotions shifted amazed him - in this aspect alone her behavior was still childlike. 

“Sure, usually it takes some time to get to know someone enough to be that affectionate with them,” the snake was increasingly unnerved.

“How would you know?” Sharp, demanding, Avarice back in full swing. 

“I wouldn’t,” And Crowley was truthful for the first time for a while. He didn’t like the other demons in any setting whatsoever, other than as far away from him as possible. He really hated group meetings and any group activity.

“So how do you know--” 

“I just do, Eve. There’s a certain look that goes with love--” his tongue curled in distaste unbidden, the forbidden word burning his throat painfully, “--that you can see in someone’s eyes if they do. Adam didn’t look at you the way he would if that was how he felt about you.” That was, in fact, the look that made Crowley so irritated at the perfection of humanity when he first saw Adam and Eve talking, how very _ full _of love Adam looked as he watched Eve look around her. 

“Because he thinks of me as a child.” 

“Yes,” softly, because even for a demon these lies were difficult to spit out, not to mention swallow. Of course, Eve couldn’t know any other truth at this point but what he told her. But this version of truth was giving rise to more sin than Earth had ever seen before - _ like a green-eyed monster _, like the one Beezlebub sometimes held in their arms, grotesque and oozing creeping disgust, Crowley thought, as Eve’s eyes shifted to that color of young algae, or maybe the acid pools he preferred to avoid in Hell. Envy. 

So there really was no turning back, then - he couldn’t just stop with Avarice and Envy. Crowley realized this too late, as he looked up at the mortal he meant to corrupt for a laugh as though seeing her for the first time. He didn’t want to corrupt Eve, really - but his basest demonic instinct _ really _liked playing with her pure flame. The Sun wouldn’t compare to the eventual bonfire of flaws she would be. The massive commendations from Hell would be worth that, right? They had to be. 


	3. As Long As You Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night comes to the Garden. Crowley shores up loose ends and convinces himself that this is the right thing to do.

The Sun was gone behind the west side of the Wall, and Eve’s eyes were longer green like acid. No, just blue again, the vanishing color of the clear sky in the afternoon as reds and pinks painted what Crowley could see overhead. There was no Avarice, no Envy in her gaze as she regarded the snake who shattered what she thought was a perfect existence. Not that it could be the snake's fault, or that it could feel  _ anything  _ like guilt - no, not at all. What a ridiculous suggestion. 

With the Sun no longer heating the ground, the fire of anger had quickly faded from Eve’s form and was replaced with its aftereffect, put in place by the Almighty Herself. The ability to feel remorse was reserved for those who could love, and therefore feel its absence - or any other vital feeling. Crowley, of course, could feel  _ guilt, _ but not shame or sadness - what was there for him to regret, miss or be ashamed of? Guilt was made of different stuff, he was sure - it only left a bad taste in his mouth, but nothing like substantiated, passionate loss, which was what wrote itself plainly in Eve’s body language and her face. This had sunk into far older lines. What a day it had been for her - from lovely, lighthearted and unblemished existence to betrayal of the only other human in the world, the loss of an ephemeral feeling she barely understood. 

Eve lay down on the grass, next to the snake. “But why wouldn’t he love me?” she asked, again, for the umpteenth time. Crowley couldn’t answer that, couldn’t undo the damage he’d caused her. 

“I don’t know,” he replied, once again. He tasted the breeze and the crickets chirping in the surrounding vegetation were loud in the silence that stretched, taut, between them. 

“When will he love me, then?” The inevitable follow-up question, of course - the same circle they followed and had been following for the last little while. Time was still mostly unnamed at this point, which allowed the sunset to last an eternity and also no time at all simultaneously. But this was different because as the last sun rays pulled away from them Eve said something new. “Didn’t Adam say- didn’t he say that I was made when it was dark?” She was so uncertain that it was painful, but not to Crowley, not at all. 

“Yes, I heard that. He was telling the truth, then.” 

“How do you know?” 

“I heard God talking to Herself. While she did it.”

Eve’s smile is just visible. “She - God is a woman, like me?” 

Crowley laughed inside at her continued wonder, but not outside - not in snake form. Pity he couldn't. It might have been a nice moment. “Yeah, actually.” 

“What did she say?” 

Crowley hadn’t actually been here while it had happened, but he could imagine. “She commanded Adam’s rib - because She made him, too, you know - To rise and make a new form of its own accord.” 

“How did She do that?” 

Crowley thought for a second. “I didn’t  _ see  _ Her do it, only overheard it happening.” This much was true, and it was comforting that he was capable of some decency - but no, no. He was a  _ demon _ , and he wasn’t really capable of goodness,  _ at all. _ Eve was a  _ stupid, mortal being.  _ Enough with stupid sentiment. 

He slithered across her, resting on her stomach and looking at her upturned face. She was still sad, he could feel it, and it left him itchy and uncomfortable. That was just the purity of her, he was sure - he told himself, and it had to be true. The Sun was officially gone, and the Garden swelled with the sound of insects and nocturnal bird cries. Eve was silent, listening, and he didn’t say anything either. 

She was no longer so full of sinful feeling, her soul listless with misery. In a moment of weakness (no, it was not, it was his annoyance with her mortality, obviously), Crowley suggested, “You might feel tired, or want to sleep, right now. That’s alright, because you can’t see anything,” and watched as Eve’s head fell to the side, and her chest where his tail lay draped across her rose more slowly, calmly, than it had before. He was sure her newfound emotional pain would be softened by some time spent asleep, a theory he would now test. 

Once certain his second temptation (if not to sin) had worked, he slithered off of her and away to find Adam. He had to make sure the only man wouldn’t wander across the only woman in the world, his only equal in the Garden. 

It looked different at night, and the stars that Crowley had helped place in space winked at him insolently. Small animals ran from his approaching hiss through the forest undergrowth, like he would be interested in them. Through the trees, the sound of a waterfall filled the empty silence leftover from vibrant night sounds. 

He left the forest behind, went through tall grasses where the crickets were loudest, past the lions and bears where they slept in peace together. He found Adam lying on the moss by a boulder close to the north part of the Wall. Circling the man’s head, the snake put his head by his ear and hissed, “You don’t need to find Eve tomorrow. You’ll know where she is when it’s time, trust me,” sending him deeper into sleep. 

That accomplished, he went back the way he came, taking his time. He had all night to himself, with no prerogative. He was doing as he was told, making trouble in the form of earthly sin a thing among the young human race. A good demon, with absolutely no misgivings about his actions - no remorse of any kind. But the guilt was as present as it could be, and he did have a way to remedy it. If it was selfish, did he care? No, he was the  _ best  _ demon, of course. Utterly despicable, and all that - everything the Fall had rendered unto those who had rebelled.

He found Eve where he left her and did the same there as he had with Adam.

Circling her head, he hissed into her sleeping ear, “Sleep for a while, you need it. Your dreams are wonderful and engaging, you won't want to wake, you won't want to move until you are rested. Sleep is a marvel and you love it, more than Adam.” While this was true, it would create a good amount of disinterest, a lack of caring, that might as well constitute Sloth. His statements made up her perception of truth, and so anything he said that contradicted this would go forward as true for her, as well. The wonders of miracle-working. Crowley could wake her whenever he chose tomorrow with a light heart, knowing that he lessened her emotional pain by prolonging her unconsciousness. That was better, there was less guilt now. It was a relief (no, he was  _ not ashamed _ ), only because the only other knowledgeably conscious beings within the Garden Wall were not aware of it. He could be - anything, but he didn’t want to change form if he wouldn’t be able to see himself in the dark. He wanted to rest now too because existence wasn’t interesting without anyone to talk to. Coiling himself by Eve's side, he closed his eyes and let himself sleep for the first time. He didn't need to, but it was nice to be able to forget his presence on Earth for a little while at least. His demonic intention could lay off for a little bit, and Hell wouldn’t mind - he was sure of it, given how helpful he’d already been since the Sun had risen that morning. That knowledge - not even forbidden, incidentally - made comfortable sleep difficult to get to. That sleep was what happened when he closed his eyes for a long time was the forbidden part, what the Almighty didn’t want his human companion to know. How ironic, Crowley thought, as he studied Eve - she was still sad in sleep, which made him ache worse than when his skin had flayed as he Fell. Something had to be done about that - but Eve would have to see herself first. 


	4. You (don't) deserve it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eve goes for a swim, and Crowley realizes he doesn't know which side he's on.

It struck Crowley sometime after he left the Garden that the Almighty might have a cruel sense of humor, but it wasn’t his fault that humans are fallible. Really, nothing he did was his fault - after he Fell, all responsibility no longer belonged to him - rather like an insolent teenager. The idea made him cackle. That had more to do with the idea that _hadn’t _he told Eve she was drop-dead gorgeous (so maybe he had, to help her feel better about the lie regarding Adam - maybe for his own sake, too, because he really was a _terrible _demon), Eve would never have formed the idea that she really deserved anything more than what she received. Crowley might have twisted morals, but some things he wanted to get clean-cut from the beginning of time.

He woke up warm and languid, Eve still sprawled and sleeping beside him. She had rolled over on the grass in the night after he came back, and now there were some loose leaves in her thick and curly hair. Crowley looked around for any sign of other animals, and besides some ants marching up a tree trunk on his left there was no active movement, even in the heat of the day. The Sun was, once again, directly overhead. He slithered over Eve’s back, following the line of her right arm across her still form, hissing at the beetles around some blackberries not distant from where they had been resting. He couldn’t bring them to her, but could tell her about them… 

“Eve! Wake up,” he said, into her ear. Her eyes flew open, as he knew they would. He also knew she definitely didn’t know she had been sleeping - how disconcerting to come to and realize there was a snake whispering in your ear? Crowley brushed this idea off as soon as it came to him. He knew Eve trusted him - she’d gone against the word of the only other human in existence at the urging of a _ demon, _ no matter how terrible that demon may be at their job. That doesn’t happen unless the _ stupid, mortal _ beings were _ fallible. _

“Wha--Oh, Crowley!” She was blinking in the bright light. “What happened?” 

“Nothing, it hasn’t been long. Listen - are you hungry?” He rushed on from the point of contention. 

“A little bit.” She yawned and watched him slither back to the blackberries. “What’s that?” 

He glanced back. “More berries. I promise they aren’t poison, like the ones from yesterday.” 

“Are they good?” 

Crowley didn’t know - he hadn’t seen the bush the previous night. “Yep.” 

Eve walked over and took one off the thorny bush, eyes screwing up when the berry proved sour. “It’s definitely not like yesterday,” was all she could say, stifled, “and more _ there, _you know?” Of course, she had a very limited frame of reference, but Crowley understood. The taste certainly would last longer on her tongue. 

“Yeah… right,” he said, somewhat weakly, because although he had eaten everything he gave her other than these berries so far, he didn’t want to set a precedent. “How do you feel now?” 

“I’m--I’m okay, I guess,” Eve replied, somewhat downcast. “Better than I did before--” 

“I’m glad. Look, do you want to go for another walk? You sstill haven’t sseen the whole Garden,” Crowley tried again, this time leaning into the temptation to make the offer more tantalizing. He preferred to let the human’s free will make the decision for her, but he knew that soon his game would be up. He couldn’t help feeling like his time was running out. Eve agreed (he acknowledged he knew it would happen, even though he didn’t want to force the issue), and they walked on, away from the Wall.

They followed the path Crowley had found on the way to Adam the night before. It was truly lovely in the daylight, the infinite variety of flora and fauna astonishing them both nicely, so Crowley could distract himself from what would have to come before long and what he had just done; the ache in his stomach, betrayal, lessened with distraction. Before long, he saw the glimmer of Sunlight on water he had glimpsed the night before and turned their steps in that direction. 

Eve gasped, seeing the pond for the first time. “Isn’t that just gorgeous!” She was staring openly at the waterfall that fed it, the spray painting an arc of colors that wouldn’t have a name for a good long while. She stopped, feet in the moss on the pond’s edge, and looked down, seeing herself for the first time. “Oh--”

Crowley paused, waiting in silence, not looking at her. Water crashed distantly, background sound. “‘Ssomething the matter?” his concern was covered by excess snake manifestation, a saving grace. 

Eve was taken aback. “N-no, um. Who is that?” pointing at her reflection, her eyes ever wider as she saw her arm move in parallel to her own. “Why is it--what is it doing?” 

As irritating (not adorable, not one bit) as her continued innocence was, Crowley was still amazed at her. How could someone be so sinful--Anger, Greed, and Sloth were not nothing--and yet too pure to recognize their own reflection? “No, Eve--no, that’s you,” he explained, realizing too late that he would have to introduce her to this as much as he had to concepts like love.

“That--that’s me? Really?” 

“Yes, watch.” And he slithered beside her, raising himself for the second time with one more miracle to prove that he could see himself in the water. It wasn’t holy, for all the Garden was made Divine, so it didn’t give away what he was but proved the point that Eve looked like what she saw. She stared at the snake, then the reflection, as it flicked its tongue out to taste the laden air. “Convinced?” 

“Yeah… I think? That’s--that’s so _ strange, _” Eve said, now wondering for the first time since she first talked to Adam. 

“How so?” 

“I look like that--that _ thing _,” she gestured at herself in the water once again. 

“That isn’t a _ thing, _ Eve,” Crowley corrected. (No, not a _ thing, _ a _ stupid, mortal being _ , remember.) “That is the first and only woman in the world--you know that?” Temptation time, once again. Sheer flattery, this time. It seemed to get easier the more he did it, and Crowley wasn’t too sure how he felt about that. “Although I know Adam doesn’t love you--” there it was, the lie he hissed through his fangs, the acidic bite of the word _ love _burning his throat again-- “I might understand if there were other humans, not just other women--but there’s only you two. Who else could he love--” another bitten back hiss of pain-- “besides the only, the most beautiful woman in the world?” Alright, that might have been a bit much, but Eve was regarding the snake again, then her own reflection. 

“You think--you think I’m beautiful?” The uncertainty was painful. Crowley’s fault.

“I mean, well, yeah, I suppose. The Garden is beautiful, on the whole, so anything in it must be, too.” Satan, he would have to be careful or he’d be an angel again. Hell forbid. “Something like that.” 

“So, you don’t know why Adam doesn’t love me, then?” 

_ Yes, finally, _ she understood what he’d been telling her at face value--only face value, because how else could she understand it? “Exactly.” 

“Because, I’m too beautiful for no one to love me?” Humans were _ really _fallible, gullible too. But… he was succeeding. She was looking at her reflection more closely now, taking in every detail. Too closely to be unsinful--proud, now, with what she saw. At last, a mortal sin. But she wouldn’t be steeped in it, no--there weren’t enough mortal trappings on Earth for humans to fall into pure depravity (yet!), just swim, maybe, and then dry off. Pity. 

In any case, she was watching herself as she walked away, arms outstretched as though to somehow take up more room. Vanity too, then. How lovely. Crowley wasn’t about to deny her the irreplaceable idea that she deserved the entire Garden - if she got there before he suggested--no, _ tempted _ her into it, all the better for his Hell-given orders. No one would say he could have done his job better if Eve did part of it for him (because he was such a _ blessed _ good demon), and _ technically, _it was a credit to him if that was how she ended up Falling. Ironic, that, but Hell’s bureaucracy was backward enough without questioning. That was how so many other demons had got there in the first place--once again, Crowley really hadn’t meant to Fall--and none of this would be really his fault, under Heaven. The perks of being Fallen, to begin with, maybe? 

Eve eyed the waterfall again. “Do you think I should walk over there?” Interrupting Crowley’s train of thought, she pointed to where the water poured out of nowhere, so much like the love mortals have no right to know. 

“Do whatever you feel like--I mean, you _ do _ deserve it,” he drawled in response, and _ Satan _ she was too pure for this world, running excitedly through the soft moss and grass to where overhead branches split the Sunlight into thick swathes, through tall reeds growing out of shallow water and under the water, beaming at the sensation. “It’s--warm! Crowley,” she called, arms spread again, taking what she wanted in the first baptism. “Crowley! Do you like water?” 

_ No, not really, that could be holy water, Eve. _ “No, not really, snakes like the Sun better than water.” Of course, he still couldn’t say what he was, show her he was Fallen, until she was too. “You can have the whole pond if you want,” he added, an afterthought, her excitement _ almost _too infectious to bear shutting down. 

“Are you sure? Don’t other animals need it, too?”

“Yeah, sure--they don’t need too much of it, so you can take whatever you want, really.”

“Would Adam share it with me, if he loved me?” 

“Yes, I’m pretty sure,” and there they were again. What a shame--he had really messed up with starting that line of attack, but it would be over soon. He needed it to end it that way, or he wouldn’t have followed orders properly. Hell forbid he couldn’t make proper trouble--imagine! What a terrible demon he would be _ then, _not to mention everything, all the misgivings he’d already been having. Mentally, of course. Neither Heaven or Hell had any place there. He was fine, then. 

Eve made no movement to leave the waterfall, so Crowley slithered into a shaft of sunlight and coiled himself neatly, watching her. He had eternity if she did--now that Sloth was established, he might have to be patient again, and for a while. He could be. He was certain he wouldn’t be redeemed, ever, but it was certainly nice to see Eve happy, especially in sin. The sin _ he _ had introduced. There was no intense satisfaction, just a calm certainty that he was doing the _ proper _thing for Hell--most particularly because none of it would be called “right” or “righteous” by the Almighty. He had to be satisfied with that. 

He waited while Eve explored the pond, swimming for the first time. Her hair flowed behind her in a very pleasing way- a curtain of black, almost like oil (which would be his idea to extract, probably, sometime). The sun was lower in the sky now and Eve was still swimming, floating among the reeds on the opposite side, trying to talk to some frogs. Being unsuccessful, she turned back looking petulant. “Why can’t they understand?” 

“Not everything can talk to you, I’m afraid,” the snake replied lazily, gazing around the clearing’s edge for any sign of edible plants, or better yet fruits. 

Eve got out of the water, skin pruned at the extremities and long hair dripping, straightened and draped over her form. She walked back towards Crowley, who had _ not _ slept, only zoned out (again), because he was occult and not ethereal; if he was, waiting for the better part of a day wouldn’t be that much of a burden. But demons had shorter attention spans; something about the sulfur or acid pools in Hell must have altered that part of their nature. Or they were just more prone to annoyance with _ stupid, mortal _beings. 

Anyway, there was a vine with bunches of green pods cascading down a nearby tree trunk. Eve plucked one off in its entirety and came back to sit next to the snake, who was looking at her again, studying her in a way only a demon (or angel) could. She smiled, holding out the grapes. “Would you like some?” 

“Nah, I’m good.” 

“Sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” 

Her smile widened. The grapes disappeared quickly, after that. 

Eve was now completely convinced she deserved the entire Garden, the fruits of its labor, without qualification. Greed was alive and well, and while Crowley was proud of his handiwork (maybe not _ exactly _that--he was a snake, after all) there was the ache still burning in his stomach. He really was a very terrible demon. In the best way. Obviously. Eve was still so perfect, as perfectly fallible as she had been when he met her, but she was somehow more mortal, more prone to sins of this world. That could only be laid at Crowley’s (lack of) feet, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. 

She was so close to Falling. One more push, maybe two, would be enough to complete his work, and Hell would sing his praises. Or scream them, because demons didn’t sing. It was too pure for head office’s liking, but Crowley felt like screaming now, and he couldn’t. He was a snake. So very squirming and defeatish.

Cowardly. 


	5. The Last One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley finally brings Eve's fall full circle, leaving the proper tale to others to tell. He won't.   
“They say that the world was built for two; only worth living if somebody’s loving you, and now you do.”- Lana Del Rey, Video Games - Born to Die

The Sun was still warming the ground as Eve stretched beside the pond, content and cooled off by her extended time enjoying it. It wasn’t gone, and everything, all the greenery, the different trees, was readily visible still, and Crowley decided he had waited long enough. He rose from his waiting coil and slithered beside her body, soft and pliant in the grass. Considering his options to get her to move, ants, maggots or muddy ground all presented themselves but maybe he was soft, but--no, of course not--no, he wouldn’t, couldn’t do that to her. 

Bless it. He cared too much for Earth already, knew that he had loved it as soon as he saw the colors days ago now, he cared too much for Eve too. Bless him, bless Eve and bless the blessed Garden made of stupid, silly love and call him a saint, then. His plan had backfired, and now it would have to be completed for his orders to be properly carried out. But  _ the commendations, the praise,  _ of course. That was the main reason he had done everything this far. Of course. Obviously, the most self-absorbed and self-serving reason for his actions, not because he was a horrible demon. No, never, he was good at his job, he  _ loved  _ being horrible. Spreading sin and discord, the main requirements of the job, were his favorite things. No, he wouldn’t summon fire ants to attack Eve, she needed to see the tree. The Tree, his first fruits in the Garden. Her ultimate downfall, and then she wouldn’t matter. Then she was Heaven’s charge, the Almighty’s disobedient Daughter. That would work just fine. That was his plan, then. He wasn’t just making it up as he went along.  _ Who was he kidding? _

“Eve. Are you awake?” 

“Uhh… What?” 

“You are. Good. There’s one more place I want to show you. You’ve never ssseen it, I’m posssitive.” Will-bending again. He would have to check himself. Sometime, not now. 

“Where?”    
“Where I came from.” More or less the truth. “I want to show you the first thing I ate, so you can have it too. You deserve it.” 

“Right, but where is it?” Impatience now, to know and understand, no more idle waiting for an answer. Crowley was surprised even at his underestimation of the great fallibility of humankind, even though he knew they were made that way. She had simply accepted that she deserved it, no questions asked. What would the saying be, something about a slippery slope? 

“Follow me,” Crowley said, tongue flicking out again in the characteristic but unrecognized sign of nerves. Eve did, getting to her feet faster than she had pre-Sloth. 

The woods around them darkened as Crowley retraced his path to where it all began, to the forbidden clearing and the tree at its heart, so lush and beautiful and obviously dangerous. Forbidden to touch or take from, because it would fizz in the mouth and burn you from the inside--unless you were corrupted. Crowley was from his core, irreversibly; Eve more so than ever before in her short existence. No “Do not touch” sign was necessary; no one could read, anyway. Nor would they need to either--If Crowley could get Eve to eat before she realized what it would do. 

As the light faded from the eastern wall, reflecting the Sun’s last redly reaching fingers, Eve studied the tree at a distance, and Crowley was surprised to see the glimmers of Greed in the mortal’s eyes, her gaze even more sharp and focused on the tree before her than it had ever been before. She was focused on what she couldn’t have, aware she deserved everything she saw. There was only so much time left before these stupid mortal beings became more their own than Heaven’s before the contest between Heaven and Hell for mortal souls became necessary. Crowley knew in his most damned soul that Hell could comfortably leave him alone forever after this, sending him a few rewards in the next thousand years or so. He was glad, then, too, but only in that same part of his soul. The rest of him was not ready to lose the childlike mortal he had befriended, to cast her out of this perfect world made of Love and Divine Light and into the Real World, where nothing could ever be the same. 

Crowley knew that Adam was in the forest behind them, and he needed to make Eve eat of the forbidden fruits before he showed up. “Look, Eve,” he began, and her intense observation shifted from the tree to him, and he was startled at its sharpness, so much like a knife’s point. “If you eat from that tree, I know Adam might love you.” 

“Really?” Hope sprung eternal, feral and free-running. “You promise?” The childlike question was in so much to the rest of her new outlook that it caught the snake off-guard for a second, but he recovered. 

“Yes. I promise. I ate it before, so I know it’s true.” Even before he finished speaking she started walking across the clearing to the tree. The single-minded impulsivity was new, but Crowley knew only one more sin would be necessary to make the first pair truly the imprint for all humanity. As he slithered to catch up to the human, he miracled Rapture, purest ecstasy, into the pomegranates within Eve’s reach. She snatched one close to where Crowley had originally eaten, blunt fingernails and inexperienced fingers tearing at the rind to the jewel-like arils inside. She bit into the fruit like she was starving, and the sun sank with almost palpable despair into the sky beyond the Wall. The world was gray, no longer black and white, good and evil, as Lust bloomed in Eve’s chest and she tore the pomegranate apart in search of more, more, more. 

Crowley stopped short of the tree’s roots and turned to the trees as the sound of something crashing through it caught both of their attention. 

Adam stood there, and all he could see was Eve redhanded with the known forbidden fruit in pieces in her hands, the juice running down her chin with rind scattered at her feet, a snake he’d never seen at her side, a gleam in her eyes he didn’t recognize. “Eve! What are you doing?” was all he could do, and she smiled the same smile Crowley had tried so hard to hide, so perfectly Fallen, the Almighty’s disobedient Daughter in full glory.

“Try some! For me!” she called to him, and what else could he do? He was so completely, helplessly in divine love with her that he would follow her to the end, the edge of the Garden, to beyond its borders, do anything for her to show how he felt towards her. 

Adam could only stumble forward into sin, because how could he know how deeply corrupt Woman now was? More importantly, how could he resist the Divine plan, which was different from the Ineffable one? 

Eve was so filled with Lust that she gave the remaining scrap of pomegranate in her reddened hand to Adam as he approached, and when he ate of it he could see her completely, snatching another laced pomegranate in Gluttony; Lust would not be the only new sensation, she wanted him, utterly and sinfully. He understood what she now knew, and she was so  _ perfectly his  _ that the amount of love in his heart hurt him physically. 

Eve was convinced that the fruit would make Adam love her, and she was not wrong; it served to amplify already present feelings towards her. However, it awakened more animal passion in her, and so a half-universal confusion of Love and Lust was begun. 

Crowley simply watched the two humans together for the second time in history; he had no more work here. It was so strange, he thought; he didn’t expect to be surprised at the reaction of the man when he had taken the pomegranate from the woman. No - time seemed to hang in the balance as night fell, and they stared at each other in dawning wonder for so long the snake almost wanted to break the silence. But no. As the moon began to rise, the man crossed the short distance so far unbroken before--the space that would become known by society as “personal space” and took Eve’s hand again. She laced their fingers and gazed up at him fiercely, doubt assuaged. There was absolutely no way he didn’t love her, she was sure. The transformation was complete, and as Crowley turned away, unnoticed again in the grass by the humans, they kissed softly in the light of a full moon. The sky was clear and all was peaceful, for now. The Almighty would know tomorrow. Crowley began to slither in the direction of the Eastern Gate as the humans’ kiss deepened, becoming more passionate and less pure as time went on, leading to the discovery of depths of love and lust the Almighty must have known would happen eventually. It was all in their stupid, mortal, fallible design, wasn’t it? Crowley wasn’t sure if it wouldn't have happened if he didn’t interfere, but there it was. He had intervened, and now he could leave knowing that mortals were no longer the property of Heaven alone, no longer their own. 

It was utterly disgusting to the demon, who  _ knew  _ he could never feel that way about anyone, or any entity. Honestly, it was ridiculous to have love in the first place. Obviously, it only led to ... _ stupid  _ things happening. 

Tomorrow, he would go up to the edge of the Garden and see what the world held in its desolation. If he left over the eastern side of the Wall, maybe he could tempt an angel into wrongdoing. If necessary, of course--he’d done all he needed to do to never have to work a desk job in Hell again, forever, if he didn’t want to. His deeds here would be hard to follow up, though. Ah well. Humanity could get to up to the nefarious dealings and he could just report them as his doing. He knew that they could get up to some poor decisions now that the Seven Deadly Sins were alive and well in their minds. Was that enough trouble to be getting along with? Had he done the right thing? He wouldn’t know. But he’d be an angel again before he  _ ever  _ regretted any of his actions here. Either that, or he’d meet one. But how preposterous was that? 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment or kudos, whatever you feel like. I hope this made your day better :D


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